Home Isn't A Place
by Tenoko
Summary: Post S08E23. Takes place after 8.23, in which case, Dean does what he always tries to do what something is wrong: he tries to make it better, getting some help as he does. One-shot


Dean had been so freaking grateful to actually find Cas, for him to be returned to them rather that just let fall from the sky like all the others, that Dean had only been able to grab the angel and hug him when he'd seen him, relief and grief warring against each other.

Cas clung back, actually whimpering into Dean's coat. "Dean, they're falling."

"I know, Cas. I am so sorry. I never wanted this. I never wanted- I'm so glad you're okay."

"It's my fault." And Dean would never say, but he was pretty sure Castiel was crying. "He took my grace, Dean. He has it. It was the final piece he needed. I did this."

Dean released him, taking his friend's face in his hands and forcing him to look at the hunter. "Hey, hey, none of that!" he ordered. "You did not do this, Cas! You hear me? This was not your fault! Metatron lied and tricked you! He tricked all of us! You thought you were helping, Cas, you were trying to help them!" He kept and arm around the angel- former angel's shoulders, guiding him toward the car where he'd left Sam. "C'mon, Cas. Let's get you home. We'll figure this out tomorrow."

His brother was already passed out in the car, and Dean really wondered if he didn't need to take him directly to the hospital instead of the base. Castiel got in the back seat and slumped against the door, gaze watching as more angels fell, tears gliding down his face.

Dean gunned the car home. He had no idea what they would be looking at tomorrow, with reports coming in from all across the globe as suddenly thousands of culture shocked and traumatized angels found themselves in a place that was not their home, being punished and not even knowing why. His mind was filled with all the other things in his life he wanted to fix as well, like the two people his world revolved around, both in the car and both so very broken at the moment.

He needed to get them home, get them safe, then they could focus on the rest. One goal at a time, even while his mind was giving him a list of other things he needed to be worried about like: Castiel was vulnerable to possession now and needed to get inked, Sam hadn't eaten a proper meal in days and they had no groceries, hell, Cas probably hadn't eaten in _years_, and Kevin no longer had a mother, and Hell was still open, and there was no one in Heaven to even step in anymore to fight against the demons had they been so inclined.

Where the _hell_ was God during all this?! The angels were dicks and he'd wanted them locked away in heaven, sure, but he'd never wished for something like this to happen to them. This was just cruel.

For a brief, irrational moment, Dean kinda wished that Cas' other siblings, like Gabriel, Anna, Samandriel, Lucifer, Michael, Balthazar, and even Naomi were all alive and could put aside their differences, realize that all the fighting was stupid and wage war against Metatron, put things back right the way it should be, to fix what was their fault to begin with.

It gave him a mental image of what the angels must have once been back in all their glory days, standing tall and united and glorious, and Dean would be the first to admit that that was the scariest fucking thing he could imagine, and that was after forty years in hell and losing everyone he'd ever cared about at least once.

His phone started ringing beside him, and he quickly answered, the breath he'd been holding leaving him in a rush. "Charlie," he sighed, oddly relieved beyond words to hear from the red head.

"Not to alarm you, but the sky is falling, Dean. What the hell?"

"It's not the sky, Charlie. It's angels. Angels are falling. Some _insane_ angel worked a spell that forced all the other angels out of Heaven. Hell, we helped him do it-"

"You what?"

"He's Metatron! The Scribe of God! He told us- look, we were trying to close the gates of Heaven and Hell so that all this fighting would stop! He wanted to stop the other angels, has been in hiding from them, he helped us out, and then told us the steps to close the gates of Heaven because Crowley had the Angel Tablet! Except he _lied_! He lied and now-" His voice choked, gaze flicking to his brother looking huddled and small despite his size where he was curled in the front seat, then back to Cas, who's eyes were closed and had tear tracks all down his face. "Charlie, I need your help."

"I'm on my way."

When Charlie came in and threw her arms around Dean, hugging him tightly and immediately reassuring him that they'd get through it and figure it out, Dean felt his eyes prick. He spent so much time trying to look after others, he'd forgotten what it was like to have someone look after him.

Dropping her bags, she moved over to the younger Winchester, wrapping an arm around his waist. "C'mon, Sammy. Let's get you to your room."

The much larger male looked down at her with bleary eyes and an exhausted smile. "Hi, Charlie."

She rubbed his back. "Hi, Moose. Time for bed, buddy."

Castiel was standing awkwardly in the middle of the library, contemplating the ground beneath his feet. Placing a hand on his back, Dean guided him toward the wing with the bedrooms.

"C'mon Cas. Let's get you a change of clothes and to bed."

The man beside him blinked with a start, glancing at the looming doors with sudden realization. "Oh. That's right. Sleep."

"It can be one of the perks of being human," Dean tried to reassure him, leading him into Dean's room to find the angel something to wear.

"…Is there room for me?" the other man asked timidly, suddenly unsure of his place now that everything had changed.

Straightening with pajama pants and t-shirt in one hand, Dean turned to give his best friend a serious look. "Cas, there will _always_ be room for you. You are a member of this family and have been for years, or don't you remember all we've already been through together?" As the former angel took the soft bundle, folding it to his chest, Dean waved toward one of the walls. "We'll set you up in the room next to this one and it can be yours. Sam is on the other side of me. Kevin and Charlie both have rooms on the other side of the hall. I'll show you where the bathrooms and showers are."

The angel was just nodding, probably not even listening, and Dean thought about taking Cas to what would be his room and leaving him there, standing alone in the middle of a Spartan, empty room looking as lost and alone as he did now after everything he'd just lost.

Dean swallowed. "But tonight you're staying in here." The angel looked up with a start and Dean held up a hand. "Dude. I am not leaving you alone after what just happened. I can't fix it for them or help them, but I can and will be there for you." He glanced at the bed, frowning. "I'll, uh, just drag the other mattress in here and set it up. You take the bed, and I'll be right beside you."

Castiel's face was a lot more expressive when he was human, but so many things flitted across his face Dean didn't have time to pick them all out and name them before the angel looked down and nodded.

"Thank you, Dean."

At some point during the night, Dean woke to the sound of sniffling, his eyes flying open in the pitch darkness, mind quickly reminding him of the facts and where he was and what the noise most likely was.

He sat up, shifting and standing.

"I didn't mean to wake you," apologized Cas in the darkness.

Dean's eye roll was lost on the angel before he found the lump that was Castiel, and gave him a shove. "Scoot over, man."

Castiel didn't protest or argue, just did as told, allowing room for Dean, pillow in hand, to crawl into the bed with him, laying so that he was facing the angel, aware of how much room was between him and the edge of the bed. Silently, he felt for Castiel's hand, clasping it in his before closing his eyes.

"Go back to sleep, Cas."

He didn't allow himself to fall asleep again until after the angel had.

The next morning, inspiration struck Dean like a sledge hammer and he dragged the prophet away from the kitchen table by his elbow.

"I need a big favor, Kev, and you're the man to do it."

The prophet eyed him warily. "I'm already working to translate the other tablet."

Dean waved a hand. "There's no one left to lock upstairs, but try to find something else useful on the tablet. No, I need you to run some errands and take Castiel with you." The prophet glanced toward the kitchen where Charlie was currently trying to instill in Castiel the importance of coffee and how to make a pot of the stuff. Kevin looked back at Dean, evident confusion on his face. "We need groceries, he needs clothes, other basic stuff, normal essentials. Also, we have to get him inked. I need you to do this for me. Take as long as possible."

"What? Why?"

Dean clapped him on the shoulder, glancing over at the angel who was dressed in a set of Dean's clothes and socked feet, as he measured out coffee scoops and Charlie watched.

"Your Highness?" he called, and she glanced over, brows raised in question. "Need you for a second. Sam still asleep?"

His brother waved a hand as he made his way into the kitchen. "I'm here."

The elder Winchester gave a sharp nod. "Good. Need you too. Grab breakfast to go."

They went to Wal-Mart. Even if Kevin and Cas showed up, they would be on the other side of the store in groceries, while the other three were in the paint section comparing color squares and arguing color coordination and what colors Cas even liked.

Then they were looking at photos, black and white canvas pictures of nature and city landscapes and trying to decide if the picture of the lone dock over water was peaceful or depressing or if they would be safer with the picture of the meadow where the only splash of color was to the flowers that carpets the earth's floor.

Charlie dug out her camera and ordered all three of them into the shot, and it took about ten photos before she found one she was pleased with, and then she was darting off to get it printed in the photo center while Dean and Sam argued over whether to get Cas a heavy, solid colored blanket, or to get him a quilt for another slash of color. It was obvious which one was Dean's idea and which was Sam's, and then they were mentally making a list of all the albums in the base Cas would probably like and where they were so they could collect them and put them in his room, and wanted to run by a used book store to search for a couple of books to go on the angel's shelf, and then once they finally had all their running around done, they were rushing back to the base to get it all set up.

Kevin called them at lunch to inform them that Cas _really_ liked cheeseburgers and that the waitress had brought them a free dessert because apparently it was obvious cas was having a bad day, and free pie made everything better. Dean saw no flaw in her logic and thanked _somebody_ that while the world was ending there were decent people still in it.

He hadn't bothered to listen to the news but a minute, already knowing that people were freaking out and that most of the angels were being transported the hospital in an unconscious state. Dean really didn't want to think about what would happen when they all began waking up.

He'd already had Charlie set up a computer program to create a record every time a potential angel was admitted into a hospital and compile a list, constantly feeding it through to Garth who already had people in place to intervene and try to minimize the damage, taking in angels as they could and creating a massive, hunter ran foster home for wayward angels.

It wouldn't be enough, but at least they were trying.

Meanwhile, Charlie, Dean, and Sam were covered in paint with fans blowing the fumes from the room and more set up to try and make the paint dry faster. Arranging and decorating with what few things they'd gotten him to personalize Castiel's room as _his_. Books on the shelf. A framed copy of the photo they'd taken earlier sat on Cas's nightstand, all three of them laughing at that point, and not actually really smiling for the camera yet. They had the soft blanket folded at the end of Castiel's bed, and a change of sheets that were a dark blue Dean and Sam had actually agreed on. Charlie had even found a 'Welcome Home' sign she hung on his door just as Kevin called to warn them that he and the angel were back.

They met them in the library, a procession line of all five of them making at least one trip out to the car for groceries, while Cas glanced around and made an inquiry about the paint smell, before noticing the paint on all three of them and frowning in confusion.

"Had to touch up the warding and sigils in the dungeon, Cas," Sam lied smoothly, working with Kevin to separate the food by where it needed to go.

"Heard Kevin here took you to get inked," stated Dean, meeting his friend's eyes. The angel nodded. "He didn't convince you to get it somewhere naughty, did he?" he teased, shooting the younger man a cross look.

Kevin held up his hands. "Hey, I tried to get him to get it where you have yours. Told him it made sense, but he said it was predictable pattern that would leave him vulnerable."

Dean gave Castiel a curious look now. "Well, that does make sense, I guess. So where did you get it?"

The other man pivoted slightly, lifting up the edge of his t-shirt, revealing the way Dean's jeans were slung low on his hips and the white bandage on his hipbone. The hunter's mouth went very dry, and he had to swallow thickly, glancing away.

"Good, uh, thinking…" he said, as the former angel's shirt fell back into place.

Almost as soon as they had finished with groceries, Sam was coming up behind Cas and covering his eyes, while Charlie took him by the hands and led him through the corridors, Kevin trailing behind with a slightly amused expression.

Castiel's mouth was in a frown as Charlie led him in circles to throw off his sense of direction, while Sam was forced to trail behind laughing as he kept the angel's eyes covered, and Dean leaned against the wall outside the appointed room, biting his cheek at their antics.

Sam finally released Cas as Dean put his hand on the doorknob, grinning at his friend as he gently pushed to door open.

"Welcome home, Cas."

Any of them that later said they didn't at least tear up in the next few minutes was lying and they all knew it.

Home isn't a place, or a structure, it's the people that take something horrible and try to make it better, to help you shoulder your burden. Home is family.


End file.
